Take Your Transgender To Work Day
by CalmMango
Summary: It's take your son to work day at Hunson Abadeer's office. After debating whether or not to go, Marshall Lee finally decides to. Issuses occur. "You gotta come out the closet sometime.. right?" Three-shot prompt fic. Bubbline. Includes other characters from Ooo & Aaa with my own headcanons about everyone. Take a little looksie, hm? :3
1. Part One

**IMPORTANTE NOTE: Oh yeah, I take prompts now… Extra deets (a.k.a. details) are in my profile. Anyways….**

**…  
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**This is written fors a friend as a request fors a prompt. (whispers/giggles like an idiot)  
**_**You know who you are .**_

**I'm tryin out new things, expanding mah writing zone, y'know Getting better with every story… hopefully.**

**Please no hate in teh reviews, it'd be just rude/offensive mang. But I know you guys are coolio, so no worries. **

******Enjoys mah peeps. **:D

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My palms sweat as the elevator dings the floors. Every mark of higher elevation makes me want to crawl in a hole. Dad looks down and offers me a smile, patting my back. Still, his face flashes something. Uncertainty? I don't know, but it doesn't help me feel any better.

"Marcy," He starts, then corrects himself immediately."Marshall…" It doesn't stop my mouth from going dry. I.. I know he's trying, so I can't get too frustrated with him. The whole thing is better than I'd hoped. But it still hurts. He pauses to look unsure of what to say next. I can't blame him; he's never been in this situation. I still can't believe I am either.

"It's fine dad" I mumble, faking a reassuring smile. It's so convincing he smiles wider and looks back up. My stomach curves inwards, eating myself from inside out. I hate this feeling. I-I hate it. But it's the only way I can feel right. My thoughts jumble up again as the numbers rise.

**DING! **The pointed arrow stops at the number 13, freezing all movement. My heart skips a beat, then another and another, as if it's going up a set of stairs by two. All is silent before the door slides gleefully open, to a thin hallway. We begin the trek in that same tense silence. Dad shifts his suitcase from hand to hand, a clear sign that he's nervous.

I stop myself from thinking, 'What does he have to be nervous about? I'm the one having to deal with this.' He still has to deal with his co-workers; I can' be _that_ in considerate. But still, I have to carry the heavy load. As the foyer gets shorter and shorter, my hands get shakier and shakier. To calm my frantic nerves, I run a hand through my hair and when that doesn't help, shove them in my pockets.

He gives me a look, hand on the handle. We both nod at the same time, a consensus, and he pulls it open to the busy workroom. Multiple cubicles litter the front area, leading into full fledged offices in the back couple halls, where dad works. All we have to do is make it to his office. That's it.

My feet hurriedly carry me in front of him. Dad jogs a couple steps before setting a hand on my shoulder to slow down. I exhale deeply and do a little. Frankly I probably do look like a deranged animal, walking all jerky like that. He gets my attention, and from the corner of his eye, he motions by lifting his head a little higher.

I swallow down the lump riding up in my throat and do the same, forcing my gaze up from the floor. I.. Need to be proud of this. Right? –Yes! Right. Pride. I.. need have pride. We pass by the first few cubicles, but most just offer a greeting, barely looking up from their work. I don't know whether to be happy they don't see me head on.

Other than that, the worse is when Ms. Jenny stands to give dad a hug, and some paperwork. When she goes to wave at me, her eyes do that thing I've noticed far too much lately; they glance over, then freeze and look over again as if they saw something different, wrong from before, and then cloud with uncertainty or surprise. She stares at me a half-beat longer than usual, confusion flashing over her features, but then gives a smile to cover up the look. But I saw it. Sometimes I wish I didn't.

"Oh- Marcy. It's… nice to see you today!" She dances around the fact of the day and I wave to relive the added tension. I wish to glob something, _anything_ would just come up and swallow me whole. I motion that I'm leaving and continue on to his office. But for some horrible reason, my ears still hear the conversation I just leave behind.

"Mr. Abadeer, I left the other files on your desk. Most of the other boys are in the media room, and a good portion of the design departments are in a meeting. You'll be needed. Everyone should be coming back together at the end for a little picnic Mr. Walter's arranged, just like last year for the girls."

Dad asks, "What about…" He lingers on my name, internally deciding on how to say it or if he should even say it at all. The thought of the latter hurts more than it should. But.. I guess I get it.

I guess.

I can feel her shrugging nonchalantly behind my back. "Oh. She can go talk to them in there too, since you're office block will be closed. But it's her choice." It replays in my thoughts, each pronoun making me wince.

'Oh. **She** can go talk to them in there too, since you're office block will be closed. But it's **her** choice.'

I hurry faster to keep from hearing much more. I dunno if she got _it _or if she's just purposefully saying how she doesn't agree with _it_. Verbalizing her disapproval. I'd be lying to say I haven't come across people who are like that.

Heck, when I came out to Wendy, Georgy and Booboo it kinda went like that. Booboo gave the best reaction; by saying a simple, "ok" and just nodding, it was the best I'd ever hoped. Georgy was similar, but gave me a weird look first. I could've gone without that, but nevertheless, it was good too.

_Wendy, on the other hand, just put her hands on my shoulders and said, "I love you Marce, don't forget that, and love you through your choices no matter what. Just like when you told us you liked girls a couple years back."_

_I sighed in relief then, but prematurely, since she continued. "-But I'm not going to change your pronouns and I'm not going to call you by a new name. You're a girl who likes girls, not a boy who likes girls. This is just a fact. You should really rethink this phase your going through before you go telling everyone." I stood there dumbfounded as she then turned back to eating her lunch, like nothing happened. Booboo and Georgy gave me an apologetic look and tried to say something but I was already walking to the door, feeling like my chest was on fire, and like my eyes were sore._

The memory leaves a sour taste in my mouth as I collapse in his office chair, door safely closed off, and blinds drawn. I sneak as much of his secret candy stash, a compilation of chocolate and candy overall that mom won't let him have at home due to a new healthy outlook, before he comes in. He frowns and points at a chocolate smear on my cheek with a raised brow. I quickly smudge it off with my thumb in defeat; he gives me a quick laugh.

"Try being more secretive next time." His suitcase clicks open on the desk, and he digs through files, picking out the right ones absently. "Now I'm going to a meeting on the new revenue coming in." He glances up for a second. "You could either go in the media room with the rest or stay in here. It's your decision and I'm not going to judge you for it."

My stomach does the whole self-cannibal eating thingy again and I feel like curling into a ball. Crap I hate anxiety _so much._ Hate feeling like this. But I have to endure it. I drum my fingers in thought as he finishes gathering his things.

Dad gives me a brisk nod at my apparent decision to stay, turning to leave when I choke out, "Wait." He looks at me from the door. "I'm, I'm going. I can't hide in your office. Just gotta get it out in the open."

A sudden look of pride flashes over his face and he pulls me in a tight hug when I make it over. I swallow against his chest as he says, "Aww that's my Marshy! Taking problems head on." He kisses my forehead and I flush, looking away. "I'm so proud of you."

"Auhh whatever" I mumble, hands shoved deep in my front pockets. "Where's the darn media room anyway?" He stares at me for an extra moment, looking like one of those anime cutesy faces, complete with huge eyes, wide closed smile, and flush, before returning to normal. 'Gosh... I need to stop watching anime so much.'

"Down the hall, to the right. Near the bathrooms." We leave the office and he locks it; I stare at the action like it's a death sentence. This is it. Not take-backs. "You already know where conference room 3 is. I'll be in there, near the door if you need me. Don't worry everything'll be fine."

I manage a nod and he turns a corner, out of sight. I take a deep breath before following said path, every step feeling like lead is clinging to my legs, dread rising up in my throat. When I'm finally in front, it takes a hella lot of will-power to push it open. My hands still shake anyways.

Inside is a wide room, one part containing a long table and leather wheelie chairs, a mini fridge in the corner, another with a flat screen and gaming console. The rest is composed of couches and boxes filled with other things. A stray door to the side catches my eye, but I figure it's probably just another set of bathrooms.

I take a step in, and the door slams shut behind me, unlike every other door in the place that closes softly automatically. I glance at the hinges and see they're old fashioned. Ahh fuck. All heads turn to look in my direction. I clench and unclench my fist repeatedly, not knowing where to sit or if to even say hi. I mean, there's like about thirty guys in here!

I offer a meager wave and one bright redheaded guy steps up, coming from his spot from the gamming console. Most of the guys seem crowded around there anyways. "Who're you?" He asks, crossing his arms. "My dad said everyone was supposed to be here by 10 anyways."

"Who's your dad."

"Mr. Walters. Everyone else's boss." He smirks and I already decide I hate him. "So, like I said, who are you?"

"Who're you?"

His eye twitches. "Ricky. Now who the fuck are you?" His voice raises, and I realize I better stop dodging the question.

"Marshall Lee."

"Which parent of yours works here?"

"My dad." He frowns at my vague answers. I plead with my eyes for him not to press further, yet at the same time, my whole posture seems to say, 'fuck it I don't care.' He probably goes off of my posture to do exactly that; press further.

"Who's your dad?" He finally asks.

I swallow. 'Just… say it. Say it!' "Hunson Abadeer."

He squints at me and I know my luck's ran out. FUCK. "No, he only has a daughter."

I shake my head. "Nope." Maybe denial will work. He pokes me in the chest, once, twice.

"No, he does. Gilroy, Finn, LSP; doesn't he have a daughter?" He calls over his shoulder, eyes still trained on me. FUCK FUCK.

Those said guys murmur, none of them seeming comfortable with the situation. Well, the ones that are paying attention. One of them just seems to inspect his nails. Another blonde one looks like he's ready to hit the kid. Ouch. So much for so-called friends.

Anyways, he seems smug. "Hell, I've met her once. She's smoking hot and even flirted with me. So I know he does. So, who the fuck, are you?"

My palms start to sweat so I clasp my hands open and closed. 'What the hell did I get myself in to. W-what do I say?' my mind races. Just as on cue, my heart begins to thump like the baseline of a song and my head screams coming here was wrong. Oh so wrong.

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**Checks out my profile and vote on the poll if you want, yeah? Got some more one-shots comming along and you're input would be super cool.  
****Part Dos/Part Two commin' in a few days!  
(My apologies peeps, my friends are teaching me random words in spanish & its showing) (facepalm)**


	2. Part Two

_"So, who the fuck, are you?" _

_My palms start to sweat so I clasp my hands open and closed. 'What the hell did I get myself in to? W-what do I say?' my mind races. Just as on cue, my heart begins to thump like the baseline of a song and my head screams coming here was wrong. Oh so wrong._

In the midst of my inner panic, I cringe and remember that I _have_ seen this guy before. He introduced himself as Ricardio I think. He was a drooling dork, who only had shitty pick-up lines and a couple awkward stares to offer when we were left in the hallway outside our father's offices for five minutes. ONLY shitty pick-up lines and a couple awkward stares. It got annoying and awkward real quick. All I did was offer the poor guy a wave and get the hell outta there as fast as possible once dad did come out. Like, WOW.

For some reason, a lot of the turmoil in my gut just.. goes away. This guy's not a threat, he's just.. a dork. Not all of it goes away, but majority. I feel lighter. I find a smile growing on my face at the thought. His eyebrow twitches.

"What the hell's so funny, huh?" He pushes me once, and I take a step back from the momentum. Then again. But then, surprising myself, I take two steps forward, getting in his face. "Don't I look familiar?"

He stares at me harder. "No asshole" He spits. Wow, this is just sad.

"Well, last time we met, I recall you saying I was 'hot to trot'." I wiggle my eyebrows and take the front of his shirt in a hand, pulling it up. God, this feels so good to finally have an up on assholes like him. "You also said I had the prettiest eyes. Why don't you take another look?" I grin wickedly and widen my eyes.

He blinks once. Twice. Then he get's it. He looks me up and down, stumbling back like he's seen a ghost. "You-you're a fucking guy now!" I put my hands in my back pocket, running one of them through my hair. Murmurs run throughout the room.

"I've always been a guy on the inside. Now I just look like one a bit more on the outside."

He scowls at me, face turning real ugly, real quick. "Fucking weird ass chick! You…." He sputters for an insult. "Creepy cross-dresser! Get outta here!"

I feel a mixture of anger and fear welling inside, but shove it down. I need to remain cool; people like him get off on getting a reaction. 'Just.. act like you don't care.'

"First of all," I start absently, checking for dirt under my fingernails, "I'm not a cross-dresser, I'm transgender, so get that the fuck right."

The blonde boy from earlier says lowly, "Oh snap" and I grin. This.. might just go well.

"It doesn't matter! Y-You're a girl, not a guy! Just leave with your ugly ass anyway." He growls, clearly getting agitated.

Just for the heck of it, I press further. I raise my brows and fake innocence, walking up to him again. "Really though, my face didn't change by much or anything really substantial." I look up at everyone for a second before turning my gaze back on him. "And as I recall, I'm 'hot as hell', aren't I? You even _flirted_ with me. " I can't stop the grin spreading across my cheeks.

Snickers break out, and he flushes red. "I'm not gay!" He stammers.

I raise my hands in mock defense before I can stop them. A smirk plants itself on my face, replacing the grin. "Hey, no hate to anyone who is, but I'm not either. I like girls just as much as you do, man." Something occurs to me and I smirk wider, pausing to look around the space dramatically.

Most have amused faces, so that's comforting. I say, "But last time I checked, a couple seconds ago…. you said I was a girl. So how would that make you gay? _We didn't even bring it up in the first place."_ The suggestion of what I'm going for lingers heavily in the air.

'Oooohs' break out in the room. He freaks. "You're twisting my words I- I'm outta here." He declares, quickly stalking out and down the hall.

Uh...wow. Did I just make that happen? I breathe in quickly before walking over and sitting where he was earlier, crisscross on the floor. I grin to find the game they were playing was Call of duty: Black ops. I'm awesome at that.

I pick up the controller, change a couple things on my items and give everyone staring a quick look of confusion. "Are we gonna continue kicking some ass or what?" They snap back into action, the brown haired one with a mustache mumbling a, "Hell yeah man" and starting back up the game. After an almost twenty minute battle, I kill the last enemy and lead my team to victory, receiving short whoops, pats on the back and rough hair rubs from some surrounding guys.

After a couple more matches, I feel like walking on the moon. It… it just seems to surreal; a whole room full of people who are so accepting, just taking it in stride. Except for the occasional stare that I'm bound to get, most of them just... go with it. And it feels really, really _good._

Awhile later a pizza guy comes up, apparently ordered by a couple of parent's there and we all move over to get some. It's like a mass attack for it, and of course at first I try sliding my way in politely.. but that fails. One of the guys from earlier with blondish/red hair and a sweater-vest taps my shoulder. He motions on how to get in: by literally barreling through. I suck in a breath and push through, not caring who really blocks my way, shoveling in until I'm at the front. I pile on two huge slices and some cheesy breadsticks, sticking away from the garlic ones, because garlic's just gross. We shuffle out, plates above our heads to be not knocked from our grasps.

The second we're out, he goes over to the fridge. "Man, can you get me a cherry?" I ask and he tosses one over his shoulder, taking a cream soda for himself. Before I can stand awkwardly and find a group to sit in, he's already tugging me to one. Thank god; the action lowers the possible welling feeling in my stomach.

It's the same group from earlier. The first to greet me is the blonde one who gave that Ricardio guy the death glare in the beginning. I notice how he swipes a white beanie from one of the others and slides it one before waving me down.

"Hey man; I'm Finn."

The one with shaggy brown hair and a mustache rolls his pizza up into a... burrito-like style before taking a bite and offering a fist bump. I reciprocate. "Dude, I'm Jake." He shoves the other boy who continues to look at his phone, sharply in the side.

He squeaks, and faces me half-heartedly. I spot a thin mustache on his upper lip that's currently is purple from the grape soda in his hand. "Lucas-Samuel Parker, but that's LSP to you." I quirk a brow at the attitude clearly dripping from his voice, even thicker with his slight accent.

"How about just Lucas?" I ask, cracking open my drink.

He eyes me for a second, fixing the part in his light brown hair before smiling, just.. slightly. "Fine, you can call me that. But only because you told Ricardio off like that; he was an ass. You're pretty bad, so that's cool." His odd accent keeps peeking in at certain words, to which I wonder what type it is. A voice clears its throat behind me and I face the strawberry blonde. Yeah… that's what his hair is. A softer version of Ricky's, less aggressive.

Lucas rolls his eyes at him, scoffing loudly and returning to his phone. Err.. okay.

"Hi, I'm Bubba." He balances his plate on one arm and sticking the other out for a shake. I stand and take it. God, his hand is so small it's the same size as mine; don't even get me started on the height difference. Let's just say I can practically see the top of his head, and he has a nice view of my neck.

A black haired boy with a turquoise cap pops up from his position on the floor, blanket bundled around his neck. Oh- he was the kid who was sleeping. He rubs his eyes before snatching a pizza off of Finn's plate and asking, "Who're you?"

They all speak before I can even begin two, saying simultaneously, "Marshall Lee." I grin and go back to eating my pizza, heart beating happily in my chest.

"Oh hi!" A wide grin lights up his little face. "I'm BMO!"

Bubba elbows my slightly. "It stands for Beethoven-Matthew-Olson."

I whistle. "That's a mouthful. I guess I'll have a stick with BMO"

They all hum in agreement.

Bubba suddenly gives a sympathetic look. "I'm sorry for Ricardio's actions. He's just… not as accepting."

Jake chortles. "Accepting? Don't lie man; you know he's a judgmental jerk. Hell, he even tried to flirt with the princess!"

Finn growls extra hard at that, and I have to wonder why. 'Who the heck is the princess?' "Yeah, a globbing waggle-sack!" Pff. I hide a laugh at the ridiculous insult. These guys seem cool enough though.

Lucas adds his opinion in, taking extremely delicate bites from his… salad. Uhh.. I didn't even know we had salad. "My sis practically thinks the loser is 'charming'; I just put up with him for her sake." He briefly cringes. "Girl can scratch like hell."

We all laugh at that, and I gulp down the fizzy drink. A certain question lingers on my mind. "So you guys go to..? I'm transferring to Pendleton High in a couple weeks since the summer's ending."

Jake jabs a thumb at himself, and Bubba. "We're gonna be in 10th at Pendleton so that's cool; I can't wait to see you there man! Where did you transfer from?"

"Nightos. Oh and I'm in gonna be in 10th too."

"Ahh. LSP here is gonna be in-"

"I'll be in 9th." He interrupts dramatically, motioning to himself. Bubba rolls his eyes and asks Jake to continue.

"Ok, well Finn's gonna be in 8th and BMO in 5th"."

"That's coolio, bro" I reply in a bite.

Bubba frowns. "Don't talk with you mouthful Marshall." His eyes go all squinty for a second, more stern. "It's very bad etiquette."

Finn unintentionally does the same thing, laughing out with his mouth full, "Ahaha Bubba calm down on the new guy; He doesn't get your weird rules." He promptly receives smack on the head from the older boy.

"You too. Also, they're not 'weird rules' they're called proper etiquette and manners. Learn some." The blonde sheepishly rubs his head, glancing up every once in a while.

The remainder of the time we finish up our stuff and throw it away, Bubba in particular making us clean up extra nicely, and played some board games. From that, I learn that BMO doesn't like to play games with Jake by him saying 'He's bad at losing' mysteriously and walking away, that Bubba contrary to stereotype, loves to cook and has a sister. Their father apparently is the CEO of the company, higher than Ricky's I might add. Also I learn that Jake _really is_ bad at losing, Finn is his adoptive brother, Lucas and Bubba have a snarky relationship, and that Lucas really has a lot of attitude to go around. Around 3pm we all have to leave and go to the park across the street for the picnic, the meeting ending.

I leave with the guys, choosing to not wait at Dad's office, feeling less stressed. Heck, even lighter than before. Ms. Jenny spots us when we pass, at the moment Finn hops on my back declaring a piggyback ride. Her eyebrows shoot up while she says, "Marceline? You're not waiting for you father?"

I cringe at the sound of the name and Bubba notices, sharing a brief nod. I swallow down the sudden lump in my throat and manage, "No, I'll wait at the park for him with the guys." Everyone pauses as she stares them down, gaze inquisitive and questioning. Now, I wonder if she was feigning obliviousness from earlier and if she really doesn't agree. Finn slowly slides down off my back, sensing it also.

BMO breaks the tense moment with a tug on my arm, and resign his hands to be lifted up on my shoulders. "What are we waiting here for- the party's across the street guys!" A grin lights up my expression at the cheery boy. Ms. Jenny squints at me, finishing with a curt, "I'll make sure to tell your father, Marceline."

Shit she did it again. Her voice is still as light-hearted as it always is but something about the way she repeats my old name lets me know she's doing it on purpose. I can only nod and start walking away, my throat filled with that same horrible feeling. BMO, out of the blue, shouts back at the still staring woman, "Oh and his name's Marshall Lee, lady! Just in case you heard him wrong."

She jerks back out the outburst, and the rest of her reaction is blocked by the doors closing over the office. On the ride down we sing the numbers counting down out loud with BMO, as if the event never had happened.

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**OMG guys when I was writing my hands slipped and I accidentally typed out another 2,000. WHoops  
**

**Okey so... this apparently is a three-shot now since I always write alot. Don't worry! The next chaps's gonna come out tomorrow So no waitin' long. :D  
**

**R&R to show meh the love, mang.**


	3. Part Three

At the park is… thought I know this is going to sound corny… it's a blast. Jake and Finn enter a watermelon eating contest between them and their dad, Joshua, and the three _go to town._ I mean, it's a pretty big mess when its over, both have red smush all over their faces, but somehow Finn beats them both. Kid's got an appetite, to say the least.

More contests and junk follow, but mostly we just stick to meeting each other's fathers and chatting it up. Joshua, whose surname is Mr. Dogman but prefers people use his first name, is basically a larger and hairier version of Jake, with a jokester attitude to match.

Mr. and Mrs. Linington are also really nice, yet Lucas makes them seem like the simplest tasks they ask are burdens. Despite his rebellious attributes towards the few( also shown by frequently saying, "I don't care!") they seem like pretty close knit group.

BMO's grandfather works in the technical works side of the company. He's a nice old man, calm and cheerful seemingly all the time. The boy calls him his, "grand poop" which I suppose is supposed to be grand-pop but the man finds it adorable nonetheless.

Bubba's dad is the one I meet last. The strawberry blonde calls me as some other guys and I are playing a quick game of basketball. He grins and points his thumb to a man standing not so far away, tall and proud. He just so happens to chat with Dad, and Bubba says something to them to call them over. I make a motion for a couple more minutes to try and finish the game. They both grin and nod, standing by the sidelines to wait.

The ball swishes between my hands comfortably and I slip out of any grasp of the others, so light on my feet it feels like I'm flying. One point. Another point. The points come marching in, the number climbing higher and higher, the majority being from me. At the final shot, I'm relaxed as can be. After a few fakes, a fancy little trick for one guy that makes it look like the ball disappears for a sec, the hoops just a ways away; everything seeming to slow down for the perfect shot.

Out the corner of my eye something flashes by. A girl with the exact same hair color as Bubba runs up to him and his dad, saying something. The boy points at me, saying something back and she turns to meet my gaze. My heart leaps into my throat as I freeze to the spot and the next thing I know, I'm sprawled out on the cement. The guy from the other team runs off with the ball. One of my teammates swipes the ball back from the other guys, going in for a quick two-pointer and finishing the game. I just stare up at the clouds in a daze.

My thoughts flurry to make sense of what just happened as my teammates run over and look down. Jake runs a hand through his hair and offers me a hand up. "Holy crap Marshall you were doing awesome before, what happened?"

My mouth works silently for a response, but finally comes up with an honest, "I really don't know." They pat me on the back anyways as I wave, going over to Dad, Bubba, his dad, and that _girl_. Dad blinks at me in alarm and Bubba frowns.

"Marshall what happened out there?" I shrug and feel over the back of my head, wincing slightly at the throbbing feeling there.

"I..uh…" Before I can stop myself, my gaze drifts over to the girl. Up close she looks even prettier, with little red freckles dotting her cheeks and-

"Oh my glob are you okay?" The voice strikes me off guard, and it takes a second to realize it's the girl's. Worry is written all over her face.

"Yeah I'm fine" I blurt, trying to hold back from wincing anymore and standing up straighter. A large hand claps me friendly on the back and I stumble closer to her from the impact.

"Aha Abadeer you got a hard-headed one right here!" He gives me the widest, most Cheshire-cat like grin I've ever seen. "I'm Mr. Gumble if haven't heard it yet son."

I blink a couple times before taking the outstretched hand in a firm shake to which he nods in approval. He motions to Bubba. "Why this is Bubba, but you've probably already met him."

Bubba groans and briefly does a face-palm. "Daaad…" The man just grins wider (if possible) in response. He then takes a step back and motions to the girl.

"This is Bonnibel, my daughter." She offers a meek wave and my heart does that jumping thing again. Wait-what?

"I've heard a lot about your talents in the musical field; you won a state award on musical composition, am I correct?"

I nod sheepishly, and shove my hands in my pockets.

"Well then great job! It prides me to see such young men taking life by the horns these days, setting themselves up for a brighter future early above the rest. It's called being prepared." He gives a thumbs up.

Just… I wonder if Dad mentioned it to him, but at the same time, don't really care anyways. He just… I can't even begin to imagine today would be something like this. It's like a dream. The goofiest smile grows on my face, one that I can't stop even if I wanted to. "Thanks Mr. Gumble."

He gives another nod, something lighting up in his eyes. "You bet. Enjoy the picnic and make sure I get some more good news from you this fall." The man strides across the grass, my dad pausing to give me that weird prideful/loving anime face and following.

"Ugh my dad is so embarrassing at times." Bubba says with a small smile. Another boy comes up, saying something about BMO not sharing the video games and they run off. This leaves only me and….

"Uh I see you've met my brother quite nicely." Again I slowly turn to face the girl, swallowing all the while. Her voice is sweet and infectious, but so much to the point my body reacts weird when I hear it. I.. don't know anymore.

"Yeah Bubba's pretty cool. He's nicer than most guys here." I chuckle and watch him scold a group of little kids in the distance.

"So.." She drawls, looking around at everything except me. The motion kinda hurts. "What grade are you in?"

"I'm going to be in 10th." Her face lights up and she looks at me directly.

"Me too!" Wait.. something doesn't add up.

"Are you or Bubba adopted or something? He's gonna be in 10th too."

She rubs her forehead with a smile. "Ahh I get this all the time. We're twins."

"Aha no, seriously?"

"Yep, fraternal twins."

I rub the back of my neck and slowly start walking absently, just to move. She walks beside me. "Well that sounds super cool."

"It's kinda annoying sometimes, since people expect you to be like, _exactly the same_"

I hesitantly bump my shoulder into her's. "Well, if you guys are so different, what do _you_ like then?"

She pauses, I guess in thought, before bumping her shoulder back into mine. "Well I like science and poetry." After a moment, she adds as an afterthought, "Scratch that; I love science. Mostly learning overall."

"Oh ho ho, we got a geek here everybody." She playfully pushes me.

"Oh shush, science is really interesting if you just got to learn some more about it. I mean," She does a quick spin in a circle, arms outstretched. "It's the basis of everything!"

I nod. "Well, if you put it that way it sounds cooler. So you're still a geek, but… a cool geek."

"I'm fine with that. So you're going to Pendleton? Bubba told me."

"Yeah." I kick a rock and add slowly, "Do you... go there too?"

"Yep."

"That's awesome, I hope I see ya there." She grins, so I do too.

"Same here." We pass by an ice chest and I offer her a cherry soda, to which she declines.

"Lemonade. Pink lemonade if possible." I quirk a brow, lips upturning in amusement.

"Ahh I should've known." I dig around in the freezing water until I find a regular lemonade and hand it to her, brushing my fingertips against hers. My hand's pretty numb from the dig, but I just ignore it.

"You're hand's freezing" she notes before continuing. "And what's that supposed to mean. 'should've known'?"

I shrug. "You just seem like the fruity drink type. No biggie." She sneaks look at me from the side and we swerve out erratic walking direction back into the field. Something occurs to me. "Hey if this is a 'take your son to work' day, then why are you here?"

She struggles to open the darned thing, so I just twist it open and hand it back. She drinks for a moment before giving a reply. "I just came for the picnic part since my mother's out on a trip and I wanted to help set it up." She gives a wide glance around. "My dad was wary at first since I'm the only daughter here, but I don't think anyone really even cares or notices."

I say quickly after a long sip, "Well _I'm_ glad you came." I catch her turn her head to the side to hide a smile and feel my heart beat differently. I decide I like it.

We pass by a picnic table and a couple of the workers give me a long stare. I turn away and point to where the guys are playing Frisbee, the BMO problem solved, in the hopes she doesn't notice.

"Hey have you met the guys?" She nods.

"Yes, they're in our group at school." I run a hand through my hair.

"Oi, I'm going to be so alone when I first get there then. Everyone seems to have their friends already."

Her gaze sticks to me at that. "I was hoping you'd just hang out with us. I thought… it was kinda an unspoken agreement, you know?"

I can't keep the happiness out of my voice. "Mm Hm, yeah well now I guess it's just a spoken one, huh?"

"Yeah."

Something irks me in the back of my mind as I climb up in a low hanging tree and help her up with me to stare at the scenery and dimming sky. 'D-Does she even know? I mean has she even noticed? How.. how would she react if she didn't know and I told her?' I gulp down the rest of my soda and aim for a recycling bin a couple yards away. It bounces on the lid before tipping in.

The questions swirl in my head until I just blurt out of nowhere, "Do you know?"

Her eyebrows raise and she shifts closer. 'God don't get closer, it'll just hurt more once you move away'

"Know what?"

The words catch in my throat and my heart beats so hard it's in my ears. I force them out, closing my eyes tight shut. "T-that I'm transgender. I don't know if you never noticed or if you were just oblivious to everything."

It's the silence that ears me apart the most. Every second longer means more possibilities for reactions, negative reactions. When she breaks it, I hold my breath and my weirdly patterned heartbeats stutter.

"I… know that. But I really don't care." I blink, opening my eyes again. Wait-what?

"Wait-what?"

She faces me, brows drawn. "I don't care if you're transgender, Marshall."

I struggle to make sense of the conversation. "So you're not approving of it or-"

The next thing I know is that her hands are on my shoulders and eyes boring into mine. I notice how they're a soft brown. "What I'm saying is, none of that matters to me. I still like you, no matter what. Get that in your head. Yeesh."

Her hands remain in place for a moment before slowly sliding down my arms and returning to grip the trunk. She absently drinks some more lemonade and looks away, as if that whole mini conversation never existed. I don't know what to say to that. Nothing… seems really adequate enough.

"Thanks." I pick at the bark. "No one's ever told me that before."

She hums to acknowledge it and after some more silence, scoots closer to rest her head barely,_ just barely_, on my shoulder. "What was your old name before? Just curious."

I swallow. "Marceline."

"They're both pretty." After a minute or two, "You made it rhyme." After another beat, she breaks into the most adorable chuckles I've ever heard. "You made it _rhyme_." Her eyes glance up to mine. "You're a total closet poet."

I shrug, but end up laughing along with her, just loving the sound of it. "I'm a poet and I didn't even know it" I manage between breaths right when she's just about calmed down and starts her right up again.

"Marshall you're horribly corny." She breathes, trying to catch her breath. I don't feel the need to deny it, but just smile instead. Smiling feels a lot easier with her around.

* * *

Time ticks on faster than ever and the next thing I know it's time to leave. I'd be lying to say I'm not awkward mess. I say a quick goodbye to the guys, promising (mostly to Jake) to call them up for a chat sometime before school starts up. I barely find Bonnibel when the last of the things have been packed up.

I go for a quick glance around, making sure no one's close enough for earshot and stammer out, "Uh not to be like even more corny or a stalker or anything like that because that's not cool but could I get your number? I mean if you don't-"

She cuts me off. "You're rambling. Can I see your phone?" I shove hand down my back pocket and give it to her. She taps around a couple things, smiling. I try and peek over her shoulder to see exactly what, but she shakes her head and angles it away.

Bonnibel finally lets me see the screen in a second, turning it to the front camera. "You wanna take a picture?"

"I wanna remember this for awhile." She puffs her cheeks out, attempting to make a voice similar to Lucas. "Selfie time!"

"Technically it's a two-sie."

"Whatever, just smile until you face breaks."

She lays her head against mine and raises the phone, giving a wide beautiful smile. So, as of course just for the fun of it, I smile as hard as I can, letting my eyes get all squinty. Bonnibel giggles for a couple seconds at my face, pressing the button nevertheless. Before we can look at it, Bubba has her hooked by the arm.

"C'mon Bonnibel Dad says we gotta go."

She shoots me a quick look, taking a pen from her brother's shirt pocket and scribbling something on my skin before being whisked away into her family car. As my own dad drags me back to the parking-lot I take a look to see to see its her number. The next thing I look at is take a peek at the picture we took, grinning at the sight of her mid-laugh and me looking like a goofball.

"So, are you going next year?"

"What?" I jerk my head up, raised out of my own thoughts.

"You know; Take you son to work day. Are you going?"

"Yeah, I am."

I murmur, setting the picture to my background.

* * *

**Whoop there it is! Thats de end of mah three-shot. I hope reading this was just as fun as me writing it. Tell meh whatcha think, yeah?  
Stay cool beans.  
~CalmMango**


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